


52 Pickup

by dralexreid



Series: Dr Piper Bishop [28]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27056644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid
Summary: Prentiss and Bishop go undercover in Atlanta, Georgia, to profile a serial killer who has perfected his skill as a pick-up artist and uses his masculine prowess to lure his next victims. Meanwhile, Morgan begins teaching Reid tricks on how to charm women.
Relationships: Dr Spencer Reid/Dr Piper Bishop
Series: Dr Piper Bishop [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972852
Kudos: 18





	52 Pickup

Piper stepped out into the brisk fall air from the high school. As she shared goodbyes with the rest of her therapy group members, she checked her cell. _Shit._ 3 missed calls from Hotch. She dialled him as she fumbled with the keys to her bike. “ _Hey, we’ve got a case. Todd wants us in the brief room in 5.”_

“Hotch, I’m gonna need at least 15 minutes. You know what DC traffic is like.”

“ _You’ve got exactly 10 minutes.”_

“Thanks, Hotch.” Piper sighed as she put on her helmet. She raced into the bullpen, throwing her stuff at Anderson and grabbing the bagel he stretched out to her, sprinting into the conference room as she yelled out a thank you to the agent. She skidded into her seat, panting, as Hotch walked in with Rossi. The latter narrowed his eyes at her as he sat down while Hotch motioned for Todd to start the briefing. Piper almost choked on her bagel at the sight of a young woman face down on the carpet, crimson blood leaching into the carpet. She tried gulping down her coffee to force the starchy substance down her throat even though she desperately didn’t want to eat. 

A few weeks ago, she might have thought Spencer had nerves of steel the way he talked about disembowelment, but now she knew better than that. She knew Spencer had his own share of traumas, that pictures paled in comparison to watching it happen live. She reflected on this as they packed up to head towards the airport. Usually, Piper, Spencer and Morgan would head to the airport together, but Spencer was being distant to her. So, she opted for Emily and Rossi’s SUV, though a little packed with Jordan in tow. It was a lot more fun than the other car though, she noted to herself as they sang offkey to Billy Joel and ABBA instead of reviewing the case file as she’d usually do. 

“You know, disembowelment was popular with Egyptian treatment of the dead,” Piper mentioned to Emily as they filed into the plane.

“Yeah, you don’t normally hear disembowelment and popular in the same sentence.” Piper chuckled.

“Well, it’s true. They’d extract the intestines and the liver but then they’d sew it back up. They even pulled the brain out—”

“Guys,” Rossi interrupted, “Do we not see enough gore on a daily basis for you two to be discussing this?” Piper snorted but fell silent as she reviewed the file. Piper couldn’t stomach looking at the pictures, focusing on the situational details instead. They’d predicted some form of OCD, but with the ammonia found under the victim’s fingernails, it was more likely he was making them clean up after he disembowelled them, then slitting their throats after. She was a little surprised when Derek sat next to her instead of Spencer but pushed the thought away as they discussed the case. While Spencer and Emily discussed the small details, such as the placement of the cleaning supplies, Rossi pointed out to the group that the change in victimology from high-risk to low-risk victims was too significant to brush past. “This guy started with prostitutes— high-risk victimology. Took a year off, came back, killed a socialite. No forced entry, no coercion of any kind. So how does our unsub go from the loser of the year to Don Juan?”

“Actually, as Byron interpreted him,” Spencer piped up, “Don Juan was an ironic reversal of sex roles. And when— th–that’s about it,” he stammered as he caught Hotch’s stare and Emily snickered as they continued.

“We have to build two profiles, then—” Hotch told the team. “One for the unsub who killed prostitutes, one for the unsub who goes to clubs.”

“We’ve never done that before,” Emily pointed out.

“Prentiss is right. The victimology is so different, we’ll treat them as separate unsubs and see what overlaps. Reid, Bishop, work up a geographic profile, focus on the location of the murders. Prentiss and Rossi, concentrate on the prostitutes. Jordan, Morgan, and I will go deal with Vanessa Holden.” Derek and Spencer left to grab a coffee as Emily leaned over to whisper to Piper.

“So why were you late?”

“I was asleep,” Piper shrugged nonchalantly.

“At 11 am? Yeah, right.” Emily leaned back as she crossed her arms, a satisfied smirk on her face.

“What’s with the face?”

“I think I know what’s going on.”

“Really, Em? What’s going on?”

“Easy. You have a boyfriend.”

“Do not,” Piper pulled a face at her as Derek approached.

“My ears are tingling. You got a new boyfriend Pipes?”

“Relax. I do _not_ have a boyfriend.”

“Then where were you this morning?” Emily cornered. Piper stammered, her brain overheating as she became increasingly conscious of the stares around her. “C’mon, Pipes, we’re like family. You can tell us.” Piper exhaled.

“I can’t. So, back off,” she warned, her voice low, oblivious to the crushed expression on Spencer’s face.

“Oh, come on,” Derek whined. “How bad could it be? Just admit it. You’ve been happier lately, smiling more, you’re always on your phone, you’re late to work at least once a week.”

“So what? How does that prove anything?”

“She just answered a question with a question!” Emily pointed out jubilantly. Exasperated, she shoved past the two and made her way to the couch, ignoring the team as she started reading her book. As they landed, Piper pointedly ignored Emily and Derek on her way to the SUV with a silent Spencer.

At the local precinct, Jordan introduced the lead detective to Hotch, Morgan, Reid and Bishop and they watched footage of the night, pointing out how he obscured his face. Hotch’s eyebrows furrowed at the conflicting witness statements as well as the family’s refusal to cooperate. As Jordan called Garcia to work on resolving that issue, Hotch and Piper left for the Holden residence while Morgan stayed behind to work cognitive interviews with the more detailed statements.

Piper chewed on the inside of her cheek as she glanced at the lavish residence when Mrs Holden walked down, readjusting her glasses. “I’m sorry you came all the way out here. It’s a waste of time,” the older woman announced coldly. “Ashley knows absolutely nothing, and we want to get this behind us as soon as possible.” Hotch nodded subtly to Piper and she stepped forward to talk the woman.

“Mrs Holden, I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through.”

“You’re right. You can’t.” Piper nodded and took a deep breath before forging ahead.

“I have a younger sister, has to be a little younger than Ashley,” Piper started. “And losing my mom, it wreaked havoc on our family. We broke apart at the seams, Mrs Holden because we tried to put my mom behind us.”

“I don’t follow,” she murmured nonchalantly.

“Losing our mom was horrible. What was worse was the silence, the closed doors. Days on end where our father wouldn’t even address us. Lucy faced the brunt of it all too. She was so young when it happened, and she hated my mom for leaving.” Piper smiled softly. “I guess my point is, pushing the issue away isn’t going to help anyone and what’s happening to you and your family could happen to someone else. You lost your daughter, don’t let someone else lose theirs, I beg of you.” The woman looked at Piper pensively before threatening Hotch with so many lawsuits he’d drown. Piper chuckled weakly as she and Hotch moved over to the lounge room to meet Ashley. She had taken Vanessa out because of a recent break-up with a boyfriend and the only thing she could really point out was the attitude of the man who killed Vanessa. Garnering all the information they could, the two agents made their way back to the precinct. While Hotch updated Morgan on their newest information, Spencer handed her a cup of coffee before catching up the others on the geographical profile.

“The unsub killed the prostitutes in separate pay-by-the-hour motels in Fulton County, right there in one of the poorer neighbourhoods the area. Now, Vanessa Holden’s apartment was in the Peachtree District, where there’s a lot of big money. Based on the geography, he isn’t just changing his victimology, he’s changed his whole tax bracket.”

“So, he’s climbing the social ladder, might mean he comes from a low socio-economic background,” Piper added as she scribbled on the board. “What about the prostitutes?”

“Both prostitutes were advertised in the newspaper here. Subservient positions, asking males to ‘dominate’ them.” Emily almost laughed in the middle of her update at Piper’s screwed up face. “Cuts out the social interaction of meeting on a street corner.”

“That’s a long way from a self-assured unsub who hits the clubs,” Jordan pointed out from her perch on the table.

“Except he took a year off between the murders. Maybe he took that time to change himself,” Hotch asked but Derek shook his head.

“That’s impossible.”

“Why?” Piper asked.

“Well, I mean, you’re talking about a total transformation here. I mean how you talk, how you dress, how you think about yourself.”

“Difficult maybe. Not impossible. With the right people and right mindset, you’d be surprised what kinds of transformations people are capable of. Even serial killers.”

“Right people?” Rossi glanced up at her.

“Sure. Whether it be talk therapy, self-help groups, books or just observing behaviour. But he’d have to have a serious trigger to have this serious a transformation.”

“You have to learn how to read people. I mean, what is a pick-up?” Spencer asked. “It’s basically just a profile. Decoding cues of interest and recoding similar ones.”

“If you’re too obvious, you turn off your target. If you’re oblivious, your target moves on to a better profiler,” Piper thought aloud.

“That doesn’t sound like something he could do on his own.”

“No. He’d have to go somewhere to learn it. A self-help class maybe?”

“Uh, wait a minute,” Derek stood up. “Come on. An unsub who kills prostitutes. Is he really thinking about signing up for a Tony Robbins seminar?”

“He would if he found a class in the same place that he found the prostitutes,” Rossi pointed out as he handed them a section of the newspaper. _Learn how-to pick-up chicks_.

“Let’s get some sleep. We’ll hit the self-help centre in the morning. Back to work at 10 am,” Hotch dismissed them and Spencer started packing his things slowly. Piper rolled the whiteboard marker in her fingers as she walked up to him.

“Hey, is everything cool between us?” Spencer looked at her tentative smile, wondering the same thing. After a while, he nodded as she handed him his satchel.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Guess I just thought we were close enough for you to tell me about some guy you were seeing.”

^-^

She should’ve corrected him, she thought as she gazed over the balcony down to Reid, Derek and Hotch’s pinprick figures next to the splatter of blood. Downstairs, Reid looked right back at her, feeling a pit in his stomach after the way they’d left thing last night. He was interrupted by Derek’s thoughts on the murder. “The preliminary autopsy came back. The victim’s name is Becky Williams. She wasn’t disembowelled and what’s even weirder is the cleaning supplies were set out, but there was no trace of them on her body.”

“Why would the unsub alter his signature and push her out of an 8-story window?” Spencer asked, staring back up at the window, absent of Piper this time.

“Escalating to sadism maybe?”

“Gutting and cleaning are what he has to do to find release. He wouldn’t change that,” Rossi said.

“Well, why not? He’s changed everything else about himself,” Derek mumbled as he pensively gazed at the pool of blood at his feet.

Upstairs, Piper was shaken out of her spiralling thoughts by Emily’s voice. “Why did he pull out the cleaning supplies and then not use them?”

“In all the other scenes, the bottles were arranged in a precise order. Here they’re just part of the mess.”

“Maybe she fought back.” Piper nodded.

“And when Becky went over the railing, his routine had been compromised because he knew the police would respond.”

“Or she could have jumped,” Emily thought aloud. “Her nervous system was pumping adrenaline. Her fight or flight response kicks in.”

“He’s struck two Fridays in a row, and if his routine’s been interrupted, it might compel him to strike again.”

“It’s Saturday. The clubs will be packed tonight,” Emily said as Piper groaned.

“I hate clubs,” she grimaced as they walked back down the stairs to join the boys who were still staring at the pool of blood. Hotch looked up as he saw the girls’ approach.

“We need to take a look at the classes the unsub might have taken, generate a suspect pool as soon as possible.” Piper and Emily nodded, and they shifted over to Piper’s bike. Spencer watched as Piper made sure Emily was secure before turning the key in the ignition and speed off towards the precinct. “Reid, get a copy of the sketch to Garcia, have her run it through Photoshop, get her to add in the different peacock feathers he’s using.” Spencer nodded, walking off, a cell in hand.

Emily and Piper approached Hotch who was watching Jordan’s press release on the screen in the precinct. “Hey, boss!” Emily called as she held out a newspaper ad. “Of the 20 self-described pickup artist classes in the area, there’s only one guy who encourages his students to dress like, uh, space cowboys. Are you ready to meet Viper?”

“Go and check it out,” he ordered and turned back to the screen.

“Hold on, you want us there?” Piper asked him. “Two armed female FBI agents with a pick-up artist?”

“That sounds like a bad idea, even for me,” Emily scoffed but they practically sprinted away after seeing Hotch’s glare.

^-^

Piper watched incredulously as the man in a steampunk-esque outfit rattled on about predator and prey. “Men are put on this earth to hunt women. And even though women deny it, they want to be hunted. They need it. It’s part of our biological imperative as animals. And the competition the opposite sex puts you through— Pitting you against other guys, against your own friends even, it’s all to reassure themselves that they have brought home the best possible mate. My job is to help you slash past every defence, every excuse, every, “why don’t you meet my friend” trick that they’re gonna throw at you. You may not have ripped abs or afford table service, but if you’re smarter and… More interesting, then you will be a better predator because this is the jungle, my friends. And your prey wants to be caught.”

“Could this guy be any more of a dick?” Piper whispered to Emily. “He’s practically training serial killers and rapists.”

“Great. We’re dealing with a rampant narcissist and misogynist who’s turned himself into a snake oil salesman.” Sighing, they passed the attendants to approach the dickhead in the fluffy hat, flashing their badges.

“Well, ladies, how may I be of service?” He asked greasily. Piper almost flinched at the gruesome eye he gave her, and yet Emily didn’t even blink as he stepped closer, simply moving her hand to her gun visibly.

“You heard of the Vanessa Holden murder?” Viper nodded as he backed off.

“Terrible thing to happen. Such a shame.” Piper snorted.

“Yeah, you look real upset,” she continued. “We think the unsub—that’s unknown subject—took your class.”

“He copied your ‘the camera adds 10 pounds’ routine verbatim,” Emily finished and Viper snorted.

“Yeah, that’s a good gag.”

“A woman is dead because of your ‘gag’. At least show the feds a little remorse,” Piper scolded as she narrowed her eyes at him, ignoring how his eyes raked her figure until Emily stepped forward.

“If you could just give us your attendance lists, it might help us find him.”

“No.”

“No?”

“My clients expect a certain amount of confidentiality. I won’t compromise that.”

“We can come back with a warrant,” Piper proposed.

“Be my guest. But keep in mind, the money I make doesn’t just pay for my fabulous lifestyle, it also keeps some very expensive lawyers on retainer.”

“What club did you go to last night?” Viper smiled and stepped closer to Piper’s body, leaning in as he gazed into her disgusted eyes.

“It’s a legitimate question. You seem to know a lot about our investigation,” Emily interrupted, shoving him back and away from Piper.

“Last night, I was at Club Aqua, and I have a stack of tax-deductible drink receipts to back up my story. Now, you might not want to believe that my style works. And here in this harsh light, you have the advantage. But meet me on my turf… Oh, the things I could make you do.” Piper bit back a retort, instead tugging Emily to the bike outside. She muttered profanities under her breath as she walked back into the precinct with Emily, overlooking Reid’s raised eyebrow to pour herself a cup of tea. Piper turned around with her cup, evidently calmed by simply the scent of warm tea, to see Spencer storm off somewhere as Emily turned from him to her cell phone, probably on a call with Garcia. She almost yelped when Hotch silently slid up behind her.

“Jesus, Hotch. Yell or something next time.”

“We need to start building a linguistic profile. Garcia’ll send you and Reid everything Viper teaches. Rossi’s coming in with a possible witness.” Piper nodded as he walked away grimly. She felt a twinge of sadness for the man as she placed her cup of tea on the desk and went to find Spencer.

He was pacing outside in front of the precinct while Derek stood with his arms crossed, watching his best friend bemusedly. “Kid, calm down. It’s just some ass hat.”

“Yeah, some ass hat that practically came on to Piper.”

“Spencer, relax. Do you honestly believe Piper can’t hold her own? Do you not remember the San Diego case? They guy’s gonna have to get plastic surgery to get his nose right again. Just relax and focus on the profile.” Spencer nodded as Derek clapped him on the shoulder and turned him around to the precinct just as Piper popped into view.

“Hey, Spence! Hotch wants us to start on the linguistic profile. Hurry up!”

^-^

Derek stood staunched in the corner next to Spencer in front of the whiteboard. From her perch on the table, Piper glanced at Emily who started giving the profile. “Our unsub is a confident alpha male. He is white. He’s between the ages of 25 and 30. He’s in excellent physical shape to overpower women and also to feed his self-image.” From his seat next to the coffee machine, Rossi continued.

“He has an obsession with cleaning. He probably works in some service industry, wiping up after others, convinced everyone looks down at him. His change in himself and his victimology reflects that. This is the kind of guy who wants to stand out in a crowd.”

“He’s taken a class in how-to pick-up women. So, he’ll repeat a series of well-rehearsed lines and mind games. He may be uneducated, but he’s by no means stupid,” Piper added as Spencer moved closer to her to continue.

“Taking this class has given him the ability to read verbal cues and body language. One classic routine the viper promotes is called the push-pull. He’ll insert himself between two women and immediately after complimenting one, He’ll deliver a subtle insult, then pay attention to the other.” Scratching his neck, Spencer leaned in close to Piper. “Those are really nice earrings. I like those.” Despite herself, Piper blushed.

“Thanks.”

“My grandmother wears a lot of fake jewellery as well. It looks nice,” Spencer said as he straightened. “Ignoring the one man puts her in direct competition with her friend and causes the other to pursue you more aggressively. I was just demonstrating,” he said before apologising to a smiling Piper.

“Well, we’ve mapped the hot spots he hits, and he frequents the same clubs that the Viper does, so we need eyes and ears in every single one. Circulate the sketch as widely as possible. We’ll need everyone aware that there’s a killer out there. Thank you very much,” the lead detective finished and dismissed the group, leaving the team to start packing up for the night.

“I think I might just stay home and man the tip line tonight,” Spencer voiced his concern to Hotch. “Clubs aren’t really my thing.”

“Hey, if Spence gets to stay, so do I,” Piper whined until Emily gave her a look.

“Not a chance, kid. I need a wingman.”

“Actually, there is another angle we need to pursue,” Rossi added. “We still don’t know what made the unsub change his victimology, what made him stop killing prostitutes and move into the clubs.”

“The answer might be something in Viper’s class,” Reid suggested.

“But to figure that out, we need to profile the teacher. You need to bait him, then, with someone he sees as a challenge,” Hotch caught on.

“We need to study his style up close and personal,” Piper smirked. “It’s gonna take someone that he’s already attracted to.” The five agents turned to Emily who groaned as soon as she felt all eyes on her.

“Ugh, this is really gonna suck.” Piper beamed as she guided her friend to the locker room. “Wait, Pipes, I didn’t bring a party dress.”

“Then you’re gonna love me.” Piper pulled out two dresses from her go-bag.

“Why do you even have those?”

“Emergencies. I come prepared. _Always._ ” She said beaming at her best friend.

^-^

Spencer wasn’t lying when he said clubs weren’t his thing, because they really weren’t. The pulsing lights made his head hurt. The stench of booze and sweat made his minor OCD flare-up. Never mind the fact that he never had luck with women. Even if they deigned to talk to him, he somehow managed to turn them all away without meaning to. Long story short, he wasn’t a club kind of guy which made his tight friendship with Derek all the more intriguing. After all, Derek was the king of clubs, a joke that would’ve made Piper cry with laughter. He noted to tell that joke to her later as his serial killer statistics turned away yet another group of girls. He turned around, all of his assigned flyers still grasped in his hand, to find Derek empty-handed. He barely heard Derek’s voice under the blaring speakers. “So, how’s it going?”

“Not good. I gave the profile to one woman, she asked if I was the unsub. How are you doing?”

“Well, I gave out all my fliers.”

“And how many phone numbers did you get?”

“None. I’m working a case here, kid.” Spencer only had to give him a knowing look for Derek to come clean. “Okay, 4 were offered, but I didn’t take any of them.” Spencer just looked sour. “Hey, that'll cheer you up. Emily’s about to flirt with that dick from the self-help class.” He turned to follow Derek’s gaze and found Emily wearing a midnight blue dress with thin straps adorning her otherwise bare shoulders. As she stirred her drink, his gaze flitted over to Piper who was clearly uncomfortable but pretending to have fun. But he couldn’t say he didn’t find her attractive, not with that deep maroon dress that hugged her frame, leaving her almond shoulders bare, her acorn necklace lounging above her chest. “All right. Look, let me school you really quick.” Derek murmured as he gripped his shoulder. “What you have to do with these ladies, just take control of the conversation. When you’re talking, what makes you feel like an expert?”

“Statistics.” He said confidently, but Derek only seemed to look exasperated. He thought for a moment, recalling how excited Piper had been after his physics magic. “Um, well, when I do magic.”

“See? See, that’s perfect. Chicks dig magic. I’m gonna give you a chance to work it. Come here.” Derek guided his best friend towards the bartender. “Excuse me, sweetheart. Whenever you get a chance.” She was pretty with dark brown curls framing her face.

“What can I get you?”

“We’re with the FBI. We’re looking for this man.” Derek motioned for Spencer to start.

“Does he look at all familiar to you?” Spencer pushed a flyer towards her as Derek disappeared in the crowd.

“It’s not much of a picture.”

“I know. You know what might help, actually, is he has a scar on his eye right about there.” Reid pulled out a pen and stabbed it into the paper. “We also know that he’s taken classes where he’s learned how to distract,” he said, dragging the pen across the flyer as he spoke without leaving a single rip, “and charm his victim.” As he finished speaking, Spencer pulled the pen from the paper.

“Okay. How did you do that?”

“That’s privileged information,” Spencer said, smiling, oblivious to the daggers Piper was glaring from behind him.

“So, what do I do if I see him?”

“You should call us. Even if you just think you see him, you should definitely call us.”

“And if I don’t see him… Can I still call you?”

“Yeah. Yeah. You can call me. Yeah. Okay. Cool,” Spencer waved at her before he turned away.

“Wait,” she called out. “I don’t have your number.”

“Oh, it’s behind your barrette,” he said casually before turning to Derek.

“See? There you go. That’s what I’m talking about. That’s called game.” Derek said, beaming as he clapped Spencer on the shoulder, who couldn’t help smiling either. Piper, on the other hand, couldn’t smile even if she tried. Not only was her dress ridiculously uncomfortable, but she felt a strange feeling in her stomach as she watched Spencer flirt with the bartender. She turned in her seat to see Viper far too close to Emily for her to possibly be comfortable and so she moved in.

“Piper, you remember Viper? God’s gift to women?”

“God must have a sense of humour. I’d say it’s a pleasure, but it really isn’t.” Piper smiled disdainfully as she sipped her soda.

“What was it he said? If we met him on his turf?”

“Oh yes,” Piper chuckled. “Something along the lines of the ‘things he would make us do’. So, Viper, who gets pushed and who gets pulled tonight?” He chuckled at their unamused faces. He leaned into Piper’s face, the stench of booze repulsing her.

“You see, eye contact is a very powerful gauge. It’s why you tend to look away from someone you’re attracted to because you know instinctively what a dead giveaway it is. But your brain goes there anyway. Images, fantasies.”

“So, a narcissistic misogynist who’s also delusional,” Piper beamed. “That has got to be a hat trick, Paul.”

“The eyes don’t lie. They dilate. It’s a chemical response. We can’t control it.” Piper laughed before turning serious, maintaining eye contact until Emily called it.

“Kay, 15 seconds.” Piper straightened, swiping her hair away from her face as Emily examined her pupils. “Nope, nothing.”

“I guess chemically we’re not a match,” Piper laughed.

“Only because you have someone else on the mind.” Piper smile faded immediately. “Once that happens, the attraction centre in the brain shuts down.” She covered her shock with a snort.

“Paul, I’m baffled. I cannot figure out what the unsub could have learned from you.”

“What do you mean? He took my look, my words, everything that makes me successful to the opposite sex.”

“Really? Because that guy can get beautiful women into his apartment,” Emily pointed out. “I wouldn’t let you on my Facebook page.”

“I gave him the routines that made him what he is.”

“It must all be in the salesmanship then. ‘Cause we’ve been watching all the women in the club. And not one of them has looked at you. So, who do you really go home with, Paul? Or–or do you go home alone?” Emily asked, mock sympathy laced in her tone. Except he simply laughed.

“That was really good, ladies. That was really good. Don’t you think I know why you’re here? One of my students copies my moves, and you’re here to get inside my mind. Don’t you see? I confronted my queen bee a long time ago.”

“What’s a queen bee?” Emily asked him, her smile dropping from her face like a brick.

“You are. And so is every other confident girl in here who’s loud when she’s drunk. The social butterfly, the alpha female. Every student who’s ever taken my class has had one in his life. And the first exercise my students have to complete is to confront their queen bee. It could be the girl who cheated on you or the prom date who stood you up. But you find them and squash them.” Viper’s words settled in Piper’s head and with a glance at Emily, they grabbed their things and rushed out.

“Our unsub knew Vanessa Holden,” Emily announced through the cell as they left the club.

 _“How do you know?”_ Hotch asked through the cell.

“It’s Viper’s first confidence-building exercise. Find the source of your first rejection and make her pay for it.”

_“That’s why he stopped seeing prostitutes. He took Viper’s class and decided to confront Vanessa Holden.”_

“It makes sense with what he said to Vanessa that night. ‘Don’t you know who I am? Look closer.’ He meant it literally,” Piper called through the phone as they moved to the SUV.

“ _Alright. Good work ladies. Rossi and I’ll tackle the family.”_ As Hotch turned the cell off, Piper turned to Emily.

“I may set fire to this dress if I have to stay in it any longer. This night better end soon.” They turned back into the venue to keep an eye out for the unsub. They split up to different ends of the club as Derek kept to the dance floor. Piper caught Spencer’s eye over at the booths on the side as she twirled her straw near the bartender. She fingered her necklace as she kept scanning the crowd, her eye catching a green dress a few feet away and the man in front of her holding her hand. More importantly, she caught the scar above his right eye. Grabbing her untouched whiskey, Piper strolled over to the couple, pretending to stumble as she let the whiskey pour over the dress. “I’m so sorry. Some jerk just shoved me out of nowhere. Are you okay?”

“What the hell?” The blonde yelled before turning to the man with a vice-like grip on her wrist. “Hey, you’re holding on to me kind of tight.”

“We’re leaving.”

“Hey, you probably have some club soda in the back, right? So, she could clean that up. Just like magic,” Piper prompted the bartender, hoping she understood her message.

“Yeah. Uh… yeah, come on back.”

“Yeah. Why don’t you let me do that?” Piper smiled at the grim man and trailed a forefinger across his arm as the other two left.

“Tell me something. A man as intelligent as you, wouldn’t you want a more… capable woman rather than some dumb blonde?” Piper asked, a smile twitching on her lips as she tried to make eye contact with her team. “I mean, who would ever believe that love line bullcrap?” The man was still tense but painted a relaxed look on his face.

“So, what do you believe?”

“Me? I think we are who we choose to be.” Piper’s nails danced from his elbow to his shoulder, desperately trying to keep her voice measured. “Doesn’t matter where we come from or destiny. I’d like to believe I can control who I am, don’t you?” He smiled.

“Why don’t we get out of here?”

“Really?” Piper beamed, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “Okay,” she giggled, hooking her arm around his. He guided her out as Piper shot one last desperate look for Spencer, but he didn’t see her. She played a smile as he opened up his car door, even keeping a hand on his thigh as he drove, her heart pounding in her chest. She prayed someone saw her leave, that someone was following her. But no-one saw her leave, no-one was following her. She was all alone in an SUV with a murderer. She hoped that she could just keep up the pretence of being an idiot for a wild. _Shouldn’t be too hard seeing as you got yourself here._ She mentioned something about how pretty stars were, just to keep the flow up. Except suddenly she was in a secluded street in Fulton County and the car had stopped. She glanced sweetly at the tall, dark stranger’s glower towards her.

“I’m not an idiot,” he murmured.

“Why would you say that?” Piper unwillingly moved her hand back to his thigh as she spoke.

“Why are you carrying a Glock?”

“I uhh… All right.” Piper chuckled weakly. “You got me. I’m a woman alone in a club and someone is murdering multiple women. I was worried. I bought a gun. Just in case,” she leaned in to meet the man’s lips, just hovering above them, her right hand snaking around his neck, “I ever meet someone like you,” she whispered, pulling out her gun at the same time as she shoved his nose into the steering wheel. She pushed the car door open, thankful he hadn’t locked it and raised her Glock at him through the car window.

Meanwhile, the team realised that Piper had gone missing and they gathered around the precinct. They had extracted a name from the Holdens, Bobby, and were now narrowing it down from Viper’s attendance records. While Hotch ordered SWAT to meet them at 932 Pryor Street, Piper kept Robert in the back of the car, handcuffed, as she drove to the precinct and while the team raided the empty house, Piper entered the empty precinct, handing the unsub over to the second detective on the case. While Piper changed into a cream woolly jumper paired with slacks, Spencer paced outside the house. Hotch ordered them to troop back to the station to formulate a plan, only for them to find her spinning in a chair, chewing on an apple next to the pile of boxes. Before she could formulate a phrase, Emily had already tackled her. Spencer breathed a sigh of relief to see her okay and waving at him with a goofy smile. He also watched the smile falter and the wave halt as her eyes fell on the pretty bartender from the club. While she half-heartedly celebrated another closed case with her team, Spencer pulled the bartender, Austin, aside to say goodbye. As she left after giving Spencer a kiss on the cheek, he turned around to see Piper nursing her shoulder away from the others. “Everything okay?” he asked her.

“Peachy.” She said, smiling weakly.

“Your shoulder.”

“Ehh,” she unsuccessfully waved it off. “It’s fine, just twinges every so often.” Spencer nodded, still feeling a large wall between them. But before he could turn away, Piper pulled on his cardigan sleeve. “Spencer, I don’t have a boyfriend. I’ve…I’ve been going to therapy,” her voice was uneven, and he finally noticed her shaking.

“So?” Piper just blinked at him. “Cognitive Behavioural Therapy alone is 50-75% effective for overcoming depression and anxiety after 5 – 15 modules.” Piper chuckled. “What?”

“Nothing, you just haven’t said something interesting all day. I saw Hotch trying to cut through your opinion on Don Juan.” Spencer just brushed it off, but inside, he felt… _fuzzy._ That was new.

“Well, I could regale you with Don Juan, but I think you need some sleep. Want me to drop you off at the hotel?”

“Ugh, yes, please.” Despite the hotel only being a few minutes away, Piper was already fast asleep in the SUV, her right hand falling into Spencer’s lap accidentally. It killed Spencer to wake her up, but he didn’t have to as she woke up breathing heavily, squeezing his thigh gently. She shook her head and kissed Spencer’s cheek before she left, walking slowly into the hotel. In the dark, he blushed, smiling.


End file.
